


count, cadence, count

by susi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: College AU, Flash Fiction, M/M, Military AU, Pining, ROTC AU, Slow Burn, not exactly military tho since it's just a college military course
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-22 22:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11976720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susi/pseuds/susi
Summary: Getting put through strenuous exercises, attending tedious lectures, being yelled at every single training day because he refused to shave his head--these were the things Viktor thought he might experience in the military course he signed up for.Cadet Captain Katsuki, however, wassucha wonderful surprise.





	1. TD1

Viktor didn't know what he was supposed to expect when he signed up for a non-compulsory military course. He didn't even know why he signed up for it in the first place. Maybe to spice things up a bit this semester? One item on his bucket list was firing a gun at least once in his life. He hadn't gotten a slot in a Marksmanship PE class, so really, joining the Infantry division in ROTC was the next best thing.

That, and Chris forced him into it. To Chris, this was a mandatory thing because all his relatives went through with it, and to skip meant not getting allowance for the rest of his life. Basically, he'd be disowned. So, being the selfless, kindhearted best friend that he was, Viktor decided to go through hell and back with Chris.

But. 

"I _hate_ you. You didn't tell me we had to get up in such an ungodly hour," Victor complained, massaging his temples in an attempt to ease away his headache.

"It's a military course. What did you expect," Chris said. He was a morning person—Victor didn't know why he was best friends with an alien. "C'mon, walk faster. We're already 30 minutes late because you _refused_  to get out of the dorm without doing your hair."

He gave Chris a blank stare. "You did the same."

"I know! But you took longer!"

They enter the DMST complex in silence, or rather, accompanied with heavy panting. The Vanguard Hall was full of life despite it being eight thirty in the morning—an ungodly hour!!—and he and Chris were welcomed at the entrance by a cheerful looking security guard. 

"Good morning," Chris greeted.

"Tuck your laces in," the guard said, without even greeting back. When they'd finished, they were directed further into the complex, where there was a table for logging in.

"Which division," asked a glum teenager sitting behind the table. Without his blond locks in a mess framing his face, Victor almost didn't recognize Yuri, who was wearing military fatigues and the silliest red hat that somehow looked good together with the uniform.

"Infantry. Good morning, Yurotchka," Victor replied, and at the sound of his voice, Yuri looked up and gave Viktor the stink eye.

"Why the hell are _you_  here?"

"Language, Officer," said the woman standing behind Yuri. She held herself with a commanding stance, spine straight, head high, feet shoulder-width apart. Victor wondered, if he had enough patience to last him until the end of this semester, would he be as disciplined as her?

. . . Nope. Probably not.

Yuri narrowed his eyes at him, a wordless exchange passing between them.

 _You better explain yourself later, Nikiforov,_ said Yuri's clenched fist.

 _Whatever do you mean, dearest cousin?_  asked Victor's upturned lips.

"Sign here," Yuri grumbled, conceding for now, conscious his superior behind him. "Where are your requirements?"

". . . Requirements?"

Chris leaned in and handed a long brown envelope. He didn't tell me about this. Traitor.

Yuri's eyes twitched at Viktor's empty hands. "3 demerits. Make sure to pass them next week. Now follow me."

 

Standing up from his post, Yuri led Victor and Chris to another section of the Vanguard Hall, to opening between two adjacent buildings. When Viktor peeked in, the two adjacent buildings were not just that—there were four buildings forming a rectangle, a small grass field at the center.

"Classroom 2 is over there, that's where your company-mates are," his cousin said, pointing to the opposite corner of the rectangle. "Proceed counter-clockwise. Double time. Don't let your superiors catch you walking leisurely through the corridors. Arrange by height. Old man, you go first."

Chris shuffled behind him and they lined-up single file. They were about to proceed to the classroom, when Yuri spoke up.

"One more thing," Yuri started, but he took one last look at Victor and— "You know what, never mind. Heh."

Yuri left, leaving Viktor and Chris to fend for themselves. The two exchanged a look, both shrugging at the same time.

"You heard him. Double time," Chris reminded, poking one finger into Viktor's backpack.

Viktor stepped forward without hesitation, jogging through the corridor and passing by a few more officers. He heard a flute being played from a closed room, the rise and fall of arpeggios filling the air with steady rhythms. They reach classroom 2's open door in no time, but before Viktor could enter, someone blocked his way.

"Cadet, you cannot enter the room without asking permission first," said a strict voice to his left. Another officer in fatigues and. 

Oh. My god. It really wasn't possible. For someone to look _that_  good in a uniform.

Viktor stared. And stared. And _stared_. At the officer. At his slicked back hair and blue-framed glasses. At the loose uniform that fit him s _o well_. Back to his wonderfully plump lips. Chapped, but not any less wonderful. And then the eyes hidden beneath those glasses—gaze, hard. Expression, strict. Viktor couldn't look away.

"Hi. Hello." Viktor raised his arm in salute. "I'm single—Viktor. I'm Viktor. How about you?"

Chris, with his poorly disguised laughter, coughed into his fist.

Beautiful—wonderful, gorgeous—Mr Officer's ears turned red, but other than that, there were no other signs that he was flustered. With the same commanding tone, he said, "Cadet Private. Introduce yourself properly. And I'm yout Company Commander. Ask permission first before speaking to a superior."

"Um—"

"You may do so by stating your rank, which is Cadet Private, your name and your class—fourth class. Followed by 'Permission to speak'," the officer said. "Sandwich your statements with _sir_ or _ma'am_ depending on who you're talking to."

"Uh." Viktor blinked. He was never good at memorizing, let alone doing it on the spot. "Sir, uh, Cadet Private Viktor Nikiforov. Perm—"

"Fourth Class." _Goddamnit_ , why are military men so hot when they're stern. Viktor forgot everything he was supposed to say.

"Sir, Cadet, uh," Viktor blinked, noticing a nameplate on Mr Officer's uniform. _Katsuki_. His name's Katsuki! "Cadet Private Viktor Nikiforov, Fourth Class. Permission to speak sir."

"Speak."

"Sir, are you single, sir?"

-:-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand there you have it! my first yoi fic~~ i literally had an epiphany of writing this during rotc class this morning when our company captain was giving us a lecture. and like. why. why did i just notice today how attractive they were. every single one of the officers were attractive. is it the uniform? im pretty sure it's the uniform. 
> 
> i'll update this once a week every after rotc class!
> 
> (btw, TD = training day)


	2. TD2

As with last week, Viktor and his companymates were required to wear the Type C uniform for reserve corps. White shirt tucked into jeans, rubber shoes and white ankle length socks--unfashionable, yes, but unnegotiatiable--and a clean military haircut.

Except. The hair. He's physically, emotionally unable to ruin his hair.

"Cadet Nikiforov!" shouted Cadet Commander Katsuki from across the quadrangle, and Viktor's heart skipped a beat--he knew his name! Well, never mind that Viktor had a nameplate but yesss!

Viktor turned toward the officer and grinned, waving to him. His squadmate beside him, surname Crispino, first name unknown--Viktor forgot right after she introduced herself--tugged on his sleeve. "Get back to formation," she hissed, eyes reflecting murder.

When the steady beat of Commander Katsuki's gait reached Viktor--and damn had he mentioned how perfectly those boots suit him--his squadmate suddenly stopped and went back to standing straight, eyes forward, shoulders back, arms relaxed at the sides. Which, technically, Viktor was supposed to do as well.

"Sir, good morning, sir," Viktor said languidly, tone totally devoid of military sharpness and full of flirtatious energy. He flashed Commander Katsuki a wide, heart-shaped smile and raised his right hand in salute.

Commander Katsuki scanned Viktor from head to toe--though Viktor would like to think the commander was checking him out. Viktor absolutely looked good in this white shirt, if he said so himself, and he made sure to take extra time to do his hair today.

"Your arm should be parallel to the ground, Nikiforov. Tilt your hand a bit so your thumb couldn't be seen," Commander Katsuki said, paused, then asked, "Why haven't you cut off that fringe?"

"But sir," Viktor started, willing his eyes to water. Puppy dog eyes might work on him--it worked all too well when Makkachin did it to Viktor, so it's worth a shot. Right hand still in salute, he dropped it and poised it over his heart. "Sir, I'll die a thousand deaths if I get a haircut like that," Viktor pointed all the way to the back of the platoon formation where Chris was.

Chris blinked slowly, eyes saucy and lips quirked up into a smirk. "Dear, I agree my hair looks better than yours. The best here, even."

"Oh, my dearest, dearest friend. Don't you know Commander Katsuki's hair is the best?"

"S-Silence." Commander Katsuki's voice boomed throughout the quadrangle regardless of his stutter, glasses glinting in the morning sun. He pointed to Viktor and Chris. "Nikiforov, Giacometti. Stay behind for 20 squat thrusts later."

Unfazed, Viktor winked at Commander Katsuki. "Of course, sir. Squats are my specialty."


End file.
